Silvery lights dance on
Scrawling script
Slippery ink stains
Sticking to the edge of the paper
The scintillating scent of sage
Rising from my cup of tea
My solitary companion
As I write under the cover of night
The moon beckons me
Like a moth to a flame
Perhaps she is just as lost as I
Soul floating into the evanescent twilight
By the time dawn arrives
I have fallen into a deep slumber
Under velvet sheets
Limbs warm and cozy
My dreams remain immortal
Scripted in an unassuming notebook
Waiting for the set of the sun
To come alive once more.
YOU ARE READING
querencia ~ poetry
Poetry"let the moon teach you the art of being a mysterious and beautiful woman" ~ alexandra vasiliu
